The first slice of Blackberry Cream Cheese Coffee Cake I ever ate was handed to me on a paper plate in Bridgeport, Oregon, at a small end-of-summer berry festival on the edge of the Willamette Valley. The plate was already sagging under the weight of the streusel. The woman handing it to me was named Marta, and she was maybe seventy-five, and she told me her grandson had cut it.
The Marta Story, Because She Deserves It
Marta lived above a little restaurant off the main road, and her grandson ran the dinner shift downstairs. During festival weekend she pulled the cake out of her own oven upstairs and sent trays of it down the back stairs to the festival tent. She told me all of this while I stood there with purple fingers, because I had already been eating berries out of a paper carton.
She said the cream cheese layer was her mother’s idea. The blackberries were whatever the neighbours had brought over that week. There were three brass bowls of streusel on her counter, waiting.
I asked her what the cake was called. She shrugged. Coffee cake, she said. Everyone here makes one.
What The Name Actually Means
I did not know this at the time, but coffee cake in the American sense does not contain any coffee. The name is a translation of the German kaffee und kuchen tradition, the mid-afternoon pause for coffee and something sweet, brought over by German immigrants in the 1840s. Streusel-topped cakes started showing up in American cookbooks by 1887. The sour cream version got its big moment when Irma Rombauer put it in her 1939 book.
The cream cheese layer is a much later American twist, mid to late twentieth century. And the pairing with blackberries is very specifically a Pacific Northwest thing, because the wild Himalayan and Marion brambles grow along every roadside in Oregon from July through September. Marta did not need to tell me any of that. It was just true of where I was standing.
Bringing It Back To The LA Kitchen
I flew home a few days later. The kitchen felt quiet after the festival tent. No fiddle music, no line of people, no smell of woodsmoke drifting in from the barbecue trucks at the other end of the field. Just my apartment, morning light on the wooden table, and a bag of blackberries from the Sunday farmers market on Fairfax.
I make it now on Sunday mornings, usually before anyone else in the building is awake. I had Gillian Welch playing the first time I got it right. The kitchen window was open and the whole place smelled of warm butter and cinnamon by seven.
The first time I tried this, I thawed the frozen berries. Do not. The batter turned a strange dusky purple and the crumb went slightly gummy near the bottom. Frozen straight from the bag is the answer. Marta would have laughed at me.
What I Used
- 1.75 cups all-purpose flour for the batter, plus 1 tablespoon for the cream cheese layer and 0.75 cup for the streusel
- 1.5 teaspoons baking powder
- 0.5 teaspoon salt, split between the batter and the streusel
- 0.5 cup softened unsalted butter for the cake, plus 6 tablespoons cold cubed butter for the streusel
- 0.75 cup granulated sugar for the batter, plus 0.33 cup for the cream cheese layer
- 2 room-temperature eggs, one for the batter, one for the filling
- 2 teaspoons vanilla, split
- 0.5 cup full-fat sour cream, at room temperature
- 8 oz block cream cheese, full-fat, softened properly
- 1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest, roughly one lemon
- 2 cups blackberries, fresh or frozen, never thawed
- 0.5 cup packed light brown sugar for the streusel
- 1.5 teaspoons ground cinnamon
How It Comes Together On A Slow Sunday
Streusel first. I whisk the flour, brown sugar, cinnamon and a pinch of salt in a bowl, then cut in the cold cubed butter with a pastry cutter until the mix looks pebbly and clumpy. Into the fridge it goes.
Then the cake. I cream the softened butter and sugar in my stand mixer, the one with the paddle that clicks a little on the down-swing, for a full three minutes until it looks pale and almost whipped. One egg, one teaspoon vanilla, scrape the bowl. Then I alternate the flour mixture with the sour cream, three additions of flour and two of sour cream, on low. The batter is stiff. That is correct.
Batter into a 9-inch springform lined with parchment, spread flat with an offset spatula. The cream cheese layer is beaten separately with the sugar, the second egg, the second teaspoon vanilla, the tablespoon of flour and the lemon zest. Silky. I spoon it over the batter and spread it, leaving a thin edge of cake showing so the layers seal at the sides.
Blackberries next, scattered evenly, pressed down just a little so they nestle. Then the streusel, broken into big craggy clumps, some of them the size of a walnut. I like leaving them uneven. The tops go golden and the bottoms get a bit soft against the cream cheese.
The Long Bake
Sixty to seventy minutes at 350 F on the center rack, with a rimmed sheet underneath in case a berry decides to leak. Around minute forty-five I tent it loosely with foil if the streusel is browning faster than I want. A skewer in the middle should come out with a few moist crumbs, not wet batter.
Cool it in the pan on a rack for at least an hour. This is the hardest part. The house smells like a bakery and you have already had two cups of coffee and you want the cake, but the cream cheese layer needs the time to set. Run a thin knife around the edge, release the springform, cut with a serrated knife.
What The LA Version Misses, And What It Does Not
What is missing at home is the crowd. The fiddle player at the Bridgeport tent, the smell of grilled corn from three stalls down, the paper plate that sagged. The cake itself does not miss anything.
Day two is better than day one. Cold, straight from the fridge, standing at the counter with a fork. That is my honest opinion. Marta would probably disagree and tell me to warm it and pour more coffee. She would also be right.
Blackberry Cream Cheese Coffee Cake
Ingredients
Equipment
Method
- Preheat the oven to 350 F. Butter a 9-inch springform pan and line the bottom with a round of parchment paper. Set the pan on a rimmed baking sheet to catch any drips.
- Make the streusel first so it can rest. In a medium bowl, whisk 0.75 cup flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, and a pinch of the salt. Add the 6 tablespoons cold cubed butter and cut it in with a pastry cutter or fork until the mixture forms large, moist, pebbly clumps. Refrigerate while you build the cake.
- In a separate bowl, whisk 1.75 cups flour, baking powder, and the remaining salt. Set aside.
- In a large bowl, beat the 0.5 cup softened butter with 0.75 cup granulated sugar on medium-high speed for 3 minutes, until pale and fluffy. Add 1 egg and 1 teaspoon vanilla and beat until smooth, scraping the bowl.
- Add the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the sour cream in two additions, mixing on low just until combined. The batter will be thick. Spread it evenly across the bottom of the prepared springform pan with an offset spatula.
- In another bowl, beat the softened cream cheese with 0.33 cup granulated sugar until smooth and lump-free, about 2 minutes. Beat in the remaining 1 egg, 1 teaspoon vanilla, 1 tablespoon flour, and lemon zest until silky.
- Dollop the cream cheese filling over the cake batter and gently spread it into an even layer, leaving a thin border of batter showing around the edges.
- Scatter the blackberries evenly over the cream cheese layer, pressing them down just slightly so they nestle in.
- Break the chilled streusel into big, craggy clumps and cover the entire top of the cake, letting some pieces sit up like boulders for maximum texture.
- Bake on the center rack for 60 to 70 minutes, until the streusel is deep golden brown and a wooden skewer inserted into the center comes out with only a few moist crumbs, not wet batter. If the top browns too quickly at the 45-minute mark, tent loosely with foil.
- Cool the cake in the pan on a wire rack for at least 1 hour before running a thin knife around the edge and releasing the springform. Slice with a serrated knife and serve slightly warm or at room temperature.